Hetalia Crack Pairing OneShots
by asymmetricalpasta03
Summary: Oh, look, another distraction. In this one, you, the readers, can submit your OTP, favorite crack, least favorite pairing, hardest thing you can imagine and get a tale! Information: chapters 1 & 2. Stories start on chapter 3.
1. Announcement

_Hello again: asymmetricalpasta here to announce another interactive fanfiction!_

_The theme of this one, if you hadn't guessed, is crack pairings!_

_Like, legitimate crack._

_I don't care how big of a following it has: if it sounds illogical, I'll do it._

_Currently accepting OCs, and pairing between OCs (until I figure out how sucky they turn out). Be warned your interpretation may not match mine._

_PM suggestions. Limit two per user. _

_Keep in mind I have school also, so eventually this will have to take a backseat, ok?_

_Let's see how long I can go before running out of ideas, eh? Hit me with your best shots!_

_(Next Chapter: Rules)_


	2. Rules - Please Read

_Revised: not just crack, I'll write just about anything. But read the rules or you'll be ignored. Rules below are subject to change._

Submission Rules 

1) _**PM all** **submissions. Submissions left through review will be**_** ignored.**

**Revision: **alright, I'll take review suggestions. Just realize these take a backseat to PM submissions (only because I received a prompt I really wanted to do). PM are preferred, and if I get a PM before getting to your review, PM takes precedence. (I also realize some readers are anons or guests and _can't_ reach me by PM.)

2) Read the chapter headings before leaving a pairing. They will be titled by pairing (and, where applicable, universe).

3) I must repeat: **TWO PAIRINGS PER USER. **I received a request (from a _non-user_, no less) that had 7 bullets and even more listed under them. She (?) was also ambiguous about the pairings, giving me several "options", which she might have thought she was allowing for some leeway and creativity of my own. Still, 7 is not an acceptable number. Out of that one, I'll probably pick two I can actually do and leave the rest. Also,** be specific**. Don't give me a group of nations (e.g. Baltic X character) and say "your choice" because the choice will probably be to dump the idea, especially if you're an anon.

4) If you're not an anon, I'll PM you when your chapter is up. It might take a while, but I'll get there, and you'll know. If you _are_ an anon...well, keep on the lookout.

5) Concerning anons: **_you can't all be "Guest__"._**I have 2 "Guests": one who I'm willing to credit and accomodate; the other, not as much. If you can, can you all pick a different name out? Differentiate yourselves from the next anon? If you play by the rules, I have no problem if you forget, but still!

Pairing Rules

1) Any orientation. Het, yaoi, yuri: you think it, I do it.

2) I will NOT write incest. Incest is between blood relatives: if the relation is like that of brothers/sisters, I will write it.

3) All pairings get done once. So they aren't all the popular pairings.

4) I can try to write AU. Canon AU, mind: genderswap, school, and cats (though cat stories will suck). Cat and genderswap AU fics will not count to the total number of fics per pairing. I don't know what a cardverse is. And, no, that isn't an invitation to explain it to me.

**Edit: **Ok, so cardverse is an actual thing? I found some official art, but I also know Hima is apt to do fanart of his own characters. If someone can do an adequate job of explaining it and prove its validity as an AU, PM me & I'll consider it.

4a) Do NOT give me characterAXcat!characterB. Please. I'll seriously vomit at the suggestion. (since someone (jokingly) asked, no, not even if it's Greece).

4b) By AU, I mean YOU supply the AU, as someone already figured out. I'll just write regular world if none is specified. (if I'm really stuck, you'll wind up dumped in the school)

5) Same-sex pregnancy is out of the question. Do not ask. If you want a child, it gets adopted or through a surrogate. I don't even actually believe in them having kids, but some people do, so we can work it that way.

5a) Please don't argue weird nation biology for this. For all intents and purposes, let's pretend that the nations are just superhuman and leave it at that.

5b) I've heard of something weird about science enabling female-female pregnancy. I know very little about it, but IMO it makes much more sense since a female is an incubator no matter where the baby came from, where a male is _not_. If you must, I _might _give you that one, only because it makes so much more sense during the actual pregnancy (since I'm no good at writing the conception anyway).

6) I do character/OC. Keep in mind my version of an OC might be different than yours, so choose wisely. OC/OC gets difficult and weird.

6a) If you prefer, you may give me a description of an OC.

6b) If your OC doesn't make sense, **_I will revise it to make__ sense_**. I'm not talking about genders or if I don't think a region should be personified, not what I'm about. But we're here for crack _pairings_, not crack _characters_.

6c) I will not write human characters. End of story.

7) I prefer to stick to the way out-there couples as much as possible. Don't start by giving me all the best known or most sensical.

8) Canonically, genderswaps are different from the main characters, so I will write characterXfem!character. Jury is still out on whether or not that's incestuous.

9) Don't give me pairings between characters that clearly have a large age gap. (by that, I mean kids with adults. you can probably get away with teen shipping). Exception: one-sided on the side of the minor (like a little kid likes an older person. reciprocation will not be an option, per rules 10 and 10b). There will be no shotacon/lolicon here.

10) Not every pairing has to be mutual. I actually find it easier to write stories about unrequited love.

10a) You can pick whether or not you want it requited. If it doesn't matter, fine. If you want one or the other in specific, let me know.

11) This is not a place for porn. I am inept at romance, and tend to keep it emotional, just barely crossing into the realm of physical manifestation of love (translation: I barely know what kissing is, let along sex). If you're looking for someone to write you a hot night of yaoi, I **cannot** help you, nor would I consent if I could.

12) This is the crack **pairing** challenge. Please take your OT3s elsewhere. (someone mentioned one in passing. thought I should nip it in the bud before they started coming in as requests)

13) There is no such thing as continuity in these stories. Everything goes separately. So, if you're browsing the chapters and find your character's been used already, it doesn't mean anything. And don't refer back to other chapters to support a theory. Especially not in any future stories that may or may not emerge from this.


	3. AustraliaXfem Egypt

_Prompt by SarcasticBlue. This. I took one look at this request and said, "I'm f*cked." Now THIS is a challenge. And also the reason I'm not getting into the stories as quickly as I'd like: this was my first (PM) prompt and I want to go in order._

_This was a mistake. I suck at romance TTATT. Then again, as I state in the closing, this couple was hard and highly implausible. I started it out convinced it wouldn't work. I have 5 others in the queue, so we'll see if I improve as time goes on._

* * *

"Well, look at that," Australia said to the koala he finally released from a small crate. "Heat and sand, rather than heat and dirt."

The landscape of northern Africa was clearly something to someone who hadn't seen it often. The entire scene radiated a dirty yellow. Sand piled to the sky like small mountains and in the distance were the famous pointed limestone landmarks. They weren't the only thing to do on his list, of course.

He took out an index card and scanned the address he was to find. He was meeting someone here after all. Abandoning completely the idea trying to coax-slash-shove the koala back into the crate, he made his way down the dune he scaled to the city behind him, the marsupial hanging on to his shoulder the entire way.

He found the place. A small store front in what was clearly a downtown. A group of women were conversing outside. A few looked up; one stood, said something to the rest of the ladies and approached Australia.

"I see you found the store alright," she said, giving him a small welcoming smile.

She was faintly familiar to Australia. He'd met her once or twice before. But she wasn't what he was expecting.

"I thought I was meeting _him_ here," he said to her. The smile fell.

"Something came up he had to deal with; he asked me to make sure you don't break anything while he can't watch you."

The man shook his head. Egypt didn't know Australia well, but apparently he knew him well enough to realize he can be a bit... well, frankly, careless. not purposely, but that didn't change the fact things tended to become less than they were.

"So, does that mean we're discussing the...?" he asked, trailing off in case she didn't know about the "actual" reason he was there. "Or can we just look around?" he finished eagerly.

She looked up at him like a mother at her hyperactive child. She sighed. "If you must. _He_ specifically wanted to speak with you. I'm not permitted, nor do I have details about it, so I can't if I wished to."

"You can stop sounding so stuffy, this is informal! Two people going sightseeing: this has nothing to do with business. So," he said, clapping her on the back, throwing her off-guard, "lighten up a bit!"

Casting her eyes to the side, Egypt muttered, "I shouldn't even be with you right now." Looking back up at him, she asked, "You're aware of what you're getting into out there, right? Most tourists aren't accustomed to the heat."

"You mustn't get many Australian tourists, then, sheila."

"Whatever that meant, don't call me it."

"Fine. Egypt it is then." His brows met. He wondered about some of these nations, especially the older ones.

She followed a road out of town and went her usual track to the normal landmarks. She turned to face her companion when she noticed it was a bit quiet and found he was no longer with her. She turned, more than a bit concerned. She followed her tacks back to where two pair diverged. She then followed the second larger set toward the outskirts.

She found him leaning against a wall, looking in her direction. Once she stepped into his sight, he pushed himself upright, readjusted his koala and said, "Wondered when you were going to get here!"

"I thought you were going to look at the landmarks," she said, inflecting as much irritation into her voice as she'd permit herself.

"You must've seen those a million times. Hell. you probably watched them being built! Thought I'd let you show me something new!"

She blinked. Obviously she had no ordinary tourist on her hands. She sighed.

"Like what? The country's along the Nile: everything else is sand."

"Sounds like my land, sheila. Doesn't stop me from exploring it every once in a while!" He started toward the dunes again. She reluctantly followed.

"Nice to see you can keep up!" he said upon reaching a small summit, the same he first scaled upon arrival. She climbed near effortlessly behind him. "This was the first thing I came to see. When I got here."

"You were supposed to find me," she grumbled.

"Oi. I found you, didn't I? Stop sounding so jealous of the sand. You're just as pretty as it, and a lot easier to talk to, though that might not be saying much." Her face turned color and she went to yell something at him. He put his hand on her shoulder as he stared at the view. She closed her mouth slowly, then looked where he was staring.

"You know, when you ask most people about other countries, especially those they haven't been to, they'll be general. Spit back common knowledge. Take this land of Egypt. Ask about it, you might get back, pyramids. Sand. The Nile. But there has to be more than that. This yellow that can only be seen here. Sure, other places are yellow, but this is _this_ yellow."

"Rather philosophical, are you," Egypt said, taking his hand off her shoulder.

"Maybe it's not impressive to you. Perhaps it's because you've seen every grain of sand out there. Perhaps it's just because you're an old woman." She bit her tongue; she knew he was right, anyway.

"Fine. I'll just leave the excitement to the children," she said, mimicking his clap on his arm.

"Ah, whatever. Hey, how much sand you reckon is out there?"

"Enough to separate - " she started as he started sliding down the dune. "Us from Libya's place." she finished, pursing her lips and following him down. It was still her job to keep an eye on him.

"You didn't always have that thing on, did you?" he said as they walked some time later. She looked at him, pointing at her head.

"Not always, but I always had something covering my head."

"Why?"

"It's what we do here. Why are you dressed like a tacky tourist?"

"Well, I thought I _was_ a tacky tourist."

Both went silent. He kept looking at her, still wondering if she'd answer.

"Women here wear it. I am a woman, so I also do," she said after a long while.

"Isn't it a religious thing?"

"Yes. What is your point?"

"Nothing." Another minute passed.

"You ever take it off?"

"Very rarely. Extremely rarely."

"Because it's a thing."

"Whatever helps you understand."

"I bet your hair's pretty."

After getting past the compliment, she answered, "I'm not removing it."

"Even if no one could see it?"

"I'm _not_." The emphasis Egypt placed on the last word made it clear to Australia it was time to drop the subject.

"Any idea where we're going?"

* * *

"So, you say this is where the tourists normally wind up?" Australia said, shielding his face, as they crested the last dune before being greeted by a pyramid.

"One of several places. You know we could've gotten here much sooner if you hadn't wandered off."

"Can't even pretend to tell me that wasn't a fun little journey."

"The path is usually enough for most people. I'm actually surprised you wanted to walk at all."

He turned to her. "You can't find anything in a cab." He led her toward the monument. "Besides, like I told you, this place is like my backyard, except more yellow and less red. I can take the heat," he said, "I came for the sand."

_This idiot doesn't cease to amaze me_. She followed him inside.

"I like these drawings," Australia said as he found a wall full.

"I knew the man who did this one." Egypt pointed at a panel.

"Yeah? Hey," he started laughing and elbowed her lightly (for him, anyway), "are you in any of these?" He laughed a little, hoping she'd follow suit. He was trying with great difficulty to get her to loosen up, to figuratively (since not literally) let her hair down. Instead, she took him by the wrist and started guiding him up different levels. She found a wall she was looking for and came to a halt, staring at it.

He looked where she was looking. A picture of a man and woman in nobility dress were standing. The woman had a child next to her. She pointed at the woman.

"There I am."

Silence happened.

"You know, it was a throwaway joke. I didn't actually mean, were you here."

"Well. I am."

More silence.

"If he's a good artist and got you right, I knew your hair was pretty."

"I won't show you," she said flatly, catching on.

"You had no problem showing him!"

"Times change!" She backed away. "I'm not the same anymore! Nothing is! Stick around a few millenia and you'll come to realize it!"

She wanted to leave him. She had her order to keep an eye on the man, but she couldn't stay, either. He went back to looking at the wall and sighed. Yes, he was an irritating tourist. He knew it. There was just something about personally offending this woman that struck him.

"I don't want to see it." Her stare went from hard and angered to hard and skeptical. "Just stop yelling. I didn't realize it would offend you like that." She stood straighter. "I still like the wall."

"Right." The tension between the two grew intensely. "Perhaps we should be getting back. So you can talk to him and send you on your way."

She headed for the path as she exited. Turning to look at her companion, she found him taking the long way again.

"You really like the sand here, don't you?"

"You don't?"

"Like you said: I'm an old woman. I could name every grain of sand."

"I can introduce you to some red dirt, if you like!" he said with a grin. "You could learn some new names!" He opened his eyes to see he finally coaxed a smile out of the woman at his side. Feeling accomplished, he placed his hand on her shoulder again. It fell limp at his side within five seconds.

"Were you always this tight?"

"What?"

"You and your rules you stick with constantly. You definitely seem strict."

"I was young once. You saw the pictures."

"I wish I'd seen you then. You must've been fun."

"If I could get away. We had rules back then, as well. You don't realize you have rules as well."

"Definitely an old woman."

"Maybe being old isn't so much of a problem." She came to a stop as they approached another dune. "I tell you, if I had your body and my knowledge, I'd be content with my role in life."

Her companion raised an eyebrow. "So, your saying you want my body? I'm joking!" He yelled as she shot him a look. "It's a joke! I get it."

"I meant I wanted to have _MY_ youth back and retain my experience. I guess I had to trade something. I'm not sure if that choice was correct, but I suppose it really wasn't mine to make. And DON'T make that joke again. I don't like it."

He refrained from his immature retort ("You _don't _want it now?") out of fear of angering her again. He knew the answer. He was now the one being led by her (mostly because she knew the way back). He kept an eye on her. He knew Egypt would be something else, he just wasn't thinking about _her_ when he thought about it. But she clearly was.

"Still: my place some time? Both of you, maybe. Of course, everything out there really wants to kill you, so perhaps that's not the best of plans."

"You told me I'd see the sand. Therefore, when I wind up at your place, we're going to see it."

Australia blinked at her. She didn't turn around. "Then it's a date."

"We never agreed on a date," Egypt called back, pressing on up the side of the hill of sand.

He rolled his eyes. "Sure."

Egypt led the way back to town as Australia started talking about how his backyard compared to hers. Truthfully, she was becoming tired of hearing him speak, but couldn't, for some reason bring herself to stomp on his enthusiasm. He seemed, perhaps overly, but genuinely excited at the prospect of having someone over who didn't constantly smell of sheep.

As they approached the town, Egypt's manner went back to being reserved and short-tempered. She led him straight to the building the talk was supposed to happen in. Australia sort of understood (at least that she did not want to speak any longer) and followed her silently.

She left him outside a door. "He'll see you when he's ready," she said taking a spot behind a desk.

"Ok." He stood against a wall. "But seriously. You have to come to my place."

"We'll see."

"What? You were so ready a half hour ago!"

"I have to take it up with people. I have a job, you know. A role. And really, so do you. The only reason I even saw you today was because he's busy."

"Fine. Maybe _he'll_ like to come see it with me."

"If you can convince him."

"And I'll convince him to bring you along."

"Probably not."

She sat there and spoke not again. He kept looking at her. And he had been excited for her to come, too. Was everything she said that day just to throw him? Maybe she didn't want to come to his place. Or she wasn't the girl in the wall painting. She obviously acted more like she did in town than she did when she was with him that day. Maybe instead of him getting her to take off her mask, he drove her to put one on.

His turn to talk came. He walked in silently, not looking at her again. As the door closed she looked up at it.

It wasn't like he'd want her to come now. Besides, it was best for her if she stopped getting involved. She had her job. He had his. They were from two seperate worlds: he'd made that quite clear to her.

Both men came out as the closing time approached. She looked at them. There was a second where her eyes met his. She looked away. They finished the talk and bid each other good night and the main Egypt went back to his office. Australia made a fashion out of gathering his belongings. Then he approached the desk. He put a folded piece of paper on it.

"If you're going to ignore me, at least read it." With that he left.

She waited for the door to close before she picked it up and unfolded the sheet. In horrible handwriting, she read:

_Reliving your old days isn't a bad thing. I still think you'd look more natural in your old ways. Still hoping to see you at my place._

Egypt crushed the paper in her fist and glanced at the office door. She then folded the sheet again and put it in her pocket. Smiling to herself, she figured she should probably take him up on that offer. Just to make him happy.

He took a look at the sand again from atop the dune. It was even lovely at night. The Egypts had a beautiful, if not arid, home here. Of course, he thought to himself as he turned to leave, the landscape wasn't the only thing of beauty here. It was definitely a long shot, but he hoped, if nothing else, he had a friendship going on there.

As he reached the base, he looked on his shoulder and said, "Ok, you _have_ to go back in the crate, now."

* * *

_This one was extremely difficult to get right. I still don't think I did. See, Egypt is a predominantly Muslim country, and many of the behaviors we in more Western places associate with shipping wouldn't be tolerated in places like that, nor would the female behavior (which is why I will never write a female nation into the Middle East (that should be a new rule)). And I don't know crap about Islam, so even trying, I still did a crappy job of making this character. So, I made her a bit of a prude, but I think it's justified._


	4. N ItalyXSeychelles

_Prompt by Ayumi Kudou (Guest). I give up. This needs an update, so I'm going out-of-order. I _WILL_ get around to the one I skipped: it's interesting, I'm just stumped. _

_This one seems like it would be cute. My sister actually ships this as well (fairly certain the prompt wasn't given by her, but she was excited when I told her I received it). She and I have come to the conclusion that both are so full of energy that they're the only two established characters who can keep up with each other (mostly an inside joke; please don't kill me, this is for fun)._

* * *

Italy leaned back in his chair, only vaguely paying attention to anything the Pres was saying (he was so bored at this point, he didn't even know who the president of the council WAS anymore). He had a half-page of notes in front of him, mostly doodled on up the sides until he stopped listening at all and proceeded to draw a full-body profile of the nation across from him (Estonia) on the remainder of the white space. He had just finished it, and now found himself with nothing to do.

Wait... there was a back to this paper. Wasn't there? Italy flipped it over. Indeed! The entire back was blank. Now, all he needed was a subject. Italy looked across the long table (one of a few - there _were_ lots of them). He didn't want to draw Estonia again. He looked to Estonia's right. Sweden. Italy shuddered slightly: even worse. Going down the side of the table: Latvia, Austria, France... Italy sighed. He never sat around any pretty girls. Well, France might... no, Italy thought, don't go there. He scanned the entirety of the table down Estonia's right. Not one girl. He knew there were far more men in this group than women, but Italy never quite realized _how _few there really were.

_Well, let's see... _Italy drew on his memory bank. _There's Miss Hungary, and Miss Belgium, and...um...one lives near France, but I don't know her name..._

Only three? That couldn't be right. Looking down Estonia's left this time, he saw a number of men. Perhaps up his side of the table? He looked down his left, poking his head into the table space. Denmark was at the end, next to him Poland, and next to him New Zealand (did New Zealand count? Maybe not...). Getting past Ethiopia, he found a space occupied by a paper but no nation. He peeked around the man to his left and found what he was looking for.

She was younger, and looked like she was paying less attention that Italy (which Italy found impressive), which her tablemates obviously disapproved of. She was leaning balanced on the back legs of her chair, and it looked to Italy, judging by what was under the object, like she had removed her shoes. Yes, she was bored. Italy looked her over. She'd be nice on paper, he thought, and came back forward (with a slight knock which earned him irritated looks from Britain on his left and Lithuania on his right).

He started drawing the profile of the girl whose name completely escaped him. For a pen drawing it looked nice. He had just finished her face when movement started around him. He turned to his left.

"What's going on?" he asked.

The irritated Englishman answered, "We're going on break. Pay attention and you might know a thing or two."

He could be so angry sometimes.

Italy got to his feet, dumping the insult on the floor as it fell off his lap. He knew exactly what he was going to do: coffee. He threw his suit jacket over his shoulder and looked to the jam at the door. As his eyes travelled back, they swept past the young woman. A thought hit him: maybe he like to see his drawing! He gathered the paper and approached her. She had yet to start moving. He leaned toward her and, to get her attention, said brightly, "Hi!"

Her eyes were closed. She opened them and turned her head toward him. Italy furrowed his brow slightly. He'd gotten her eyes wrong. And in pen, too...

She slammed all four legs of her chair back on the floor. Turning back again she had a bright smile on. "Hello," she said politely.

He took the spot next to her. "I'm Italy," he said, holding out his hand, smiling himself, going as far as to open his eyes wider than usual. He figured it might be best to start out polite with her: she was familiar, but he had no idea why.

She took it. "I'm Seychelles," she replied. She looked at the door; Italy followed with his own eyes. The large mob had passed through. The room was much quieter. She looked at her paper and sighed. "You know, by how he acts before, after, outside of meetings, I never imagined Korea could be that _dull_. I'll be honest: two minutes and I was done." She laughed softly.

"Yeah, I know!" That was _Korea_? "I have enough trouble paying attention here. We can at least make it fun!"

Seychelles rolled her eyes. "Really? With all these old guys running things?"

"What's wrong with old guys?"

"Oh, right. Italy. You've been around a while, haven't you? Sorry. I bet _you'd_ find a way to make these silly things interesting."

"Yeah, but there's a reason I haven't ever been president."

"Oh, please. If South Korea can do it, you _definitely_ could!" She smiled.

"Maybe if we had pictures! We used to do everything with pictures!" Italy laughed.

"You drew them, I suppose?"

"Usually not. Like when Germany and I would plan things...I always took too long, so he took over. But he can't draw. It kind of hurt, how bad he did..."

She stared at him. Italy looked at the opposite wall. He still hadn't gotten his espresso.

"Hey, I'm going for coffee. You want to come?" He looked at her still looking at him. He smiled; so did she, and immediately after ducked under her chair to retrieve her shoes.

* * *

"So, what do you do for fun?" Italy said, inviting conversation as the duo left the building.

"I live on an island. We have beach. I usually go there." She looked at the sky, one of the first nice days of the year.

"Sounds like fun! We have beach too. We're not an island, though...I'm pretty sure it's called a peninsula."

"Same thing. Except you can get to land without a boat." She laughed. "I can barely get around my own country without a boat."

"Really?"

Seychelles nodded. "Think Polynesia's place, but compressed."

"We have some islands."

"I know."

"How?"

She looked at him seriously. "I look at _maps_, Italy."

"So do I. But I never saw you on there. I'd remember someone like this." She turned away, somewhat embarrassed by both parts of his remark.

"Yes, and that annoys me. My place is so small they don't even bother labelling it most of the time," she said, only commenting on one part of it.

Italy sighed. "You sound like my sister."

"Is that supposed to be another compliment?" she asked, laughing quietly.

Italy's face stayed dead serious. "You haven't met my sister, have you?"

The remainder of the walk was quiet. Once every few minutes one would look at the other, completely missing the reciprocal glance. Italy was trying to get a feel for her shape so he could finish her profile when Korea took the reins of the meeting again. After all, it was difficult when she was slumped in a chair and leaning backward. But...he couldn't help noticing it was a nice shape. He'd definitely seen much prettier girls. But usually when they got up there, they wouldn't talk to him and turned down every advance he made. He sometimes was forced to face that he wasn't as good with women as he'd like. This one, however, was actually talking to him. So far they'd made conversation awkward and they stopped talking. But she was still with him, right? It had to account for something!

_I never saw you on there. I'd remember someone like this. _Seychelles had heard some weird compliments, but not usually was one map-related. She was pretty sure he was trying to be nice. What did she go and start on the map thing for? Pointing out the negative...that wasn't what he was going for, right? She felt her face become warm and stopped looking at Italy. She found it difficult. Was she really that afraid of a compliment? Perhaps...afraid wasn't the word for it.

* * *

The duo approached the café. The two reached the counter and Italy put his hand on Seychelles shoulder to get her attention.

"So, what'll it be?" he asked her cheerfully.

"I'll order myself," she said, looking away again and going into her small bag for some cash, only to be stopped by a light hand on her dark wrist. She looked up to see Italy reached across her, eyes opened again and looking at her seriously.

"I got it. I invited you out. Now, if you were a man," he said, letting her go and reaching into his own pocket, while regaining his light manner of speech, "I'd probably find some way to make you pay for _my_ espresso. But since I invited a lady," he smiled at her as he pulled out his own money to pay for it, "it's just not right to make her pay for it!"

"Somehow you didn't strike me as a gentleman," she said flatly, reprimanding herself a second later for insulting him.

"I get that a lot from girls," he said without batting a (closed) eyelash.

"Oh," she said, as if surprised he wasn't offended, but also a bit disappointed that he'd tried this on other girls.

"So, what'll you have?"

"You seem quiet," Italy noted as they sat outside with their drink. Seychelles looked up as Italy shoved his coffee at her. "That's the closest thing to espresso they had here."

"Hm?"

"Black. Means there's no stuff in it. Just bean juice, basically. That'll wake you up and start you talking again!"

She smiled, eyeing the paper cup warily. Pushing it back, she said, "I'm awake. Why don't you talk?"

"Ok. It usually doesn't get this cold where I live. If it ever does, I usually visit my brother down south."

She thought back on a day a previous winter she'd visited a few northern friends. She'd never seen snow, and was understandably excited. Then nearly passed out from the cold. "I'm not too fond of cold weather, either."

"Cool! Something we have in common!" The man across from her smiled, provoking one of her own. "I like snow, and wintertime things, but not really the cold."

"Everything you do in winter, I do in summer, so I don't even have that to link. Plus, there isn't _that_ much difference between the seasons where I live."

Italy cocked his head at her. "Well, the next time we get together for a winter thing, you have to come! Okay?"

Seychelles smiled at him. "I wouldn't miss it."

"Even if we don't _all _get together, like we did the last few years, you can still come with my _famiglia_! We don't mind. Unless you have other plans." He finished trying not to give her a sense of obligation. It came out wrong; almost as though he were disappointed if she didn't come.

She looked back down and took another sip of her coffee. "You know, an hour ago, you acted as though you didn't know me. Now you're just inviting me to your holidays? With your family?"

"We do that. Especially the old ladies. As soon as they learn a connection through any part of their families, it's as thought you're instantly part of it as well. We Italians can just be friendly like that. Unless you marry them, for some reason."

Another silence fell. Something told Italy she wouldn't be coming. She didn't sound all that excited, and he almost picked up that she was trying to get out of it. He sighed and took out his pen and drawing.

Seychelles stared into her cup. He was being friendly, that much was true. Somehow, she just didn't want to believe that he was just trying to be friendly. She sighed as she realized the key phrase here: _want to believe_. The coffee rippled under her breath. She looked up for a distraction and spotted the doodle on the table.

"What's that?"

He looked up at her then down at the half finished drawing. He held it up for her to see in its one-leggedness. She looked it over. "Who's she?" she asked, although she was fairly sure she knew the answer.

He shrugged at it. "It's you. Is it that bad?"

"No!" she said emphatically. "I mean, yeah, I can see it could be me, but I wanted to make sure." Then it actually sunk in for her. "Wait. You drew me?" she said, trying her hardest not to sound flattered.

He nodded earnestly. "Wanna see Estonia?" He flipped it over. She started laughing at his enthusiasm. His eyebrows met. "Is this one that bad?"

"No," she said, still laughing. "No...it looks just like him." She remembered seeing Italy sitting across from him as she entered for the meeting. Then her heart dropped into her stomach.

"Are you watching the time?" she asked urgently.

"It's ok!" he said as he downed the rest of his coffee. "We're on break."

"That doesn't mean we're dismissed! We have to be _back there_! Remember?" She looked for a clock somewhere. She ran inside quickly and ran back out even faster. "Come on! We're late," she called to him.

She kept losing him on the way. Finally she became irritated he wasn't keeping up. "Italy!" she yelled.

"What? You said we're late. Any point in rushing now?" She stared at him. Somehow his point was both valid and made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

"I'm just used to punctuality, that's all," she said, after being stuck thinking about it until he caught up.

"Fine, we'll walk fast. Just no running." He smiled at her. She seemed rather upset about it. Reminded him of Germany, and how he liked his order, too. And Italy knew what happened when Germany's order was messed with... and he heard about women's tempers being bad, also. He just didn't like seeing her upset. He took her hand and made sure she walked along at his new pace.

"We weren't paying attention anyway, so what's the point?"

"Still, presence is better than absence, in my opinion."

"But we weren't _there_, really."

"True. Maybe we should try paying attention."

"Yeah. I asked England something, and he told me the same thing."

"Well, he can be like that, can't he?" she responded on a sour note.

"I can try, but I'm sure I'll just wind up finishing that drawing."

"I told you, Estonia looks fine."

A few second's silence was broken by Italy: "I meant yours. You still only have one leg."

"Oh," she said, a tone of embarrassment in her voice. She became more conscious of him holding her hand.

"Do you take girls out often?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Not really. I ask. They just don't accept. And after the fifth time, you kind of have to walk away and take your loss."

"I don't get taken out often." She was hinting. She was not good at hinting. Nor, she failed to realize, was he good at picking up even decent hints.

"You just did. I just took you out."

Her face went red again (it was doing it a lot that day, she noticed).

"Do you like birds?"

"Uh..."

"Sometimes, I'll go to the _piazza_ and give the birds some bread. Then get attacked by hungry birds." He laughed to himself. "I wonder if there's birds out here. We can go feed them. That'll be you getting out! If you want," he tacked on the end.

She smiled at the back of his head. "Sure."

"Great! Maybe I can announce it." Confusion fell over his partner as she wondered why on earth he'd announce a date to a room full of people who probably couldn't care less. "I can convince Germany to come, definitely! Maybe even Japan, though he might just watch or sit. And I'd invite America and Korea but they might scare them away..."

Italy trailed on. Seychelles' face fell. She was rather looking forward to doing something like this with him again. _Just_ him. Now he was making a date, sure enough, but with a ton of people, most of whom she didn't know. Maybe she should say something.

"Italy..."

He shut up and turned to face her. He stopped dragging her along and the duo came to a stop. She looked away. She had to, or she'd never say it.

"Actually," she said quietly, studying a brick in the road. "I was thinking we could..."

"You don't like birds?"

"No, that's not it. It's that...well...I...and you're invit..."

He was really bad at this, she finally realized, as he let go of her hand and turned to her fully, a horribly confused expression on his face.

_You're going to have to say it bluntly, _she told herself, _or he'll never get it_.

"I liked what we just did."

"So you want to go for coffee again?"

"If it takes that to get away from them with you!" she finally shouted.

She'd never seen his eyes that wide before. She pulled in her lip and stared at his throat.

"Oh. _That's _what you meant," he said, blinking his eyes back the way they were.

A second before Seychelles was mortified; now she was just angry. "Is that what you have to say about it?" she said rather loudly. Italy stepped back a bit and put his hand on her head.

"You don't have to shout. I understand quiet words, too." He kept her down, afraid the little archipelago would attack. "I just thought, well, it could be a social event. We have few of those. It might be fun." She put her head down, looking off to the side. "Plus, it doesn't sound like you get out much. You could stand to meet some new people." He smiled at her. She flicked her eyes upward. "If you want, we can do something afterward."

Her ears perked up. "If you think."

"Well, what do you?"

She shrugged. She sort of didn't want to talk about it anymore. "So it's decided! We all go feed birds, and then I get to take a pretty girl out for the second time in one day! This is great. Come on!" he said ecstatically, grabbing her wrist and running her along. "We have to be there if I'm going to announce it!"

It was sort of awkward going back in as everyone else was already there. Italy let go of Seychelles' arm and they took their respective seats silently, every eye in the room upon them.

"Nice of you to finally show up," said the voice to Italy's left.

Italy ignored him. He was rather happy with how the day was going, so he sort of didn't care. He paid as much attention as he could to Korea before resigning himself to boredom and taking out his doodle. He looked at her eyes and shook his head as he thought of the actual pair.

_Definitely not right_, he thought, wishing he had a pencil instead.

Seychelles down the table was leaning back on two chair legs again, taking in every other word out of the speaker's mouth. She was a bit preoccupied.

At the end, right as everyone was about to leave, Italy stood. And he did, in fact, enthusiastically invite everyone to go bird-feeding. After initially laughing herself into silence, Seychelles stood and walked next to him, supporting the idea. He looked at her, nothing but a smile on his face. She mirrored it.

* * *

Five people went. As Italy predicted, the two most childlike nations (read: South Korea and America) tagged along. Germany came with as well, mostly because Italy pleaded.

"So, you throw bread at birds?" Korea asked, looking his chunk over before throwing it in the middle of a square.

America put his hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, but you're supposed to tear it up, bro." A small flock of birds converged on the chunk. Korea ran after it to retrieve it, America running after him. Seychelles followed them, catching up to America.

"Korea, bro! _Not _a good idea!"

"Why not?"

He looked at her. "I have no idea about birds here, but the ones back home don't like when you repo their food." She watched as the larger nation essentially tacked the shorter, carrying him back. A strange smile appeared on her face as the shorter nation came back in the superpower's arms.

_So, he wanted to bring these people along for a reason_?

Italy sat next to Germany most of the afternoon, talking about random things as he ate the bread he was supposed to give to the birds and Germany flicked little balls at a trio a metre away. As soon as he brought up his plans for the evening, Germany got up and left, saying it was late and he wanted to get going, advising Korea and America to do the same.

"Eh, you go ahead, Germany," America said, momentarily stopping his chasing of Korea. "We're sticking around a while." He went to resume the chase, only to realize the pursued was now _behind_ him and knocked them both over.

Seychelles laughed at them, throwing more bread in the general direction of the few birds left. Italy sat next to her, holding something folded.

She looked at him, still smiling. "They're odd."

"The birds or them?" he asked, pointing at their remaining companions. She shook her head. "Anyway, I have something to show you." He handed her the sheet. She unfolded it and looked over the completed portrait of her standing next to...

"Is that supposed to be France?" she asked, completely confused.

"Well, no...it's Poland." Which didn't help. "I just sort of finished it as time ran out. But anyway, what do you think?"

"Excellent. Looks just like France," she teased. He half-smiled. "I like it. You have talent. Though I think that's stating the obvious: everyone knows that."

He looked up at the sky, beginning to become dark. "So, what are we going to do tonight?"

She scooted toward him on the square's bench. "This is something."

"Then we should walk. It happens all the time at my house! People walk around every night. It's a tradition."

"Even if it's cold?"

"Listen to me when I say _tradition_." He smiled at her and stood. The duo waved to the other two, still chasing birds and each other (dressed for the meeting) and walked away, just for the sake of it.

_I like this tradition, _Seychelles said to herself as she tried to slip her hand into his, before he reached over and pulled her closer to him.

* * *

_Ha, Italy. Drawing during meetings, for shame. (The author does that in class constantly)._

_Some how I can see Seychelles becoming a little jealous of someone not wanting to be with her. That does NOT make her bad, and if you haven't experienced it yet, well...let me just say, it really sucks. You'd be jealous too._

_And shipping stories are allowed to be short and nonsensical. Plus, a tone of dialogue can become tedious, so we can assume plenty more conversation happened than what was seen here._

_Italy's sister: my sister's headcanon dictates that the Republic of San Marino is an older sister (mostly because it's believed to be the oldest European country still around) to the Italy brothers. I adopted it, but told her the character itself needs work (ATM it's basically a fem!Romano)._


	5. CanadaXLiechtenstein

_Prompt by Stardust98. Going horribly out-of-order, but I don't care at this point. This one makes so much sense if you're only accounting for their personalities. Got a request (2, actually) specifically for the gakuen universe. I just graduated high school last year, so this setting is still mostly familiar and I'm good at it._

_This took so long to update. TTATT I was working on a different chapter, and tanked it, so here's this one._

* * *

"Nah...I bet you she won't give me the time of day..." Canada said, stirring peas with his plastic spork.

"Bro, you have to have more confidence than _that_," America said, leaning across the table. "Honestly, I don't see what you're so afraid of. Liechtenstein's in my class. She's quiet. She's polite. She _won't kill you_, now what is the freaking problem?"

The larger nation stayed quiet. His brother leaned back.

"You need to just -"

"Ok, say I talk to her. Say, I ask her the time."

"Then, knowing her, she'll probably tell you and be on her way. That's why you don't _literally start by asking the time_."

"Now you're the one taking it too literally!" Canada snapped back. "I'll go over it again: I talk to her. Hell, let's say I actually get to asking her out. She refuses and starts something between -"

"Bro, no girl is going to start a fight with you because you asked her on a date! Well, a few might, but, hey, ladies be crazy everywhere, right? Anyway. I'll tell you again. She is polite and unassuming. Not to assume she _couldn't _do some damage if she had to, but she usually doesn't _have to_, you see what I'm saying?"

"Okay, then, let's assume she says yes. Then what do I do?"

America stared blankly at his younger brother. "Let me get this one completely straight. You're _scared a girl will go out when you ask_?"

"Not really _scared_. Just...well, like I said, what do I do?"

"I don't know! She's...I don't know her _that_ well, Canada!"

"I don't know her at all!"

"Well, here you have two options. One, you make a plan and ask her to accompany you. Two, you talk, ask her what she likes and plan accordingly. Either way, she'll probably go."

"You keep saying that."

The two sat in silence another few minutes. "I can talk to her tomorrow, if you want."

"You'll mess it up."

"_How?_"

"Remember in October when you asked -"

"Yeah, yeah, I remember!" America shouted, now red in the face, waving his hands to shut Canada up. "But seriously, talking to her would be the exact _opposite_ of what happened in October."

"Just leave it alone, ok?"

"The way you keep talking, it sounds like you could use a wingman -"

"_Leave it alone_."

* * *

"You need to learn to use your words..." America said to Canada as the duo walked to class the next morning, Canada clutching a folded paper tightly.

"I am using words. They're just...written, that's all."

"I think you're hiding."

"Just shut up, for once, why don't you?"

Being who he is, the elder continued to talk the entire walk, though he wound up going on so many tangents that he eventually was so far off topic it became just normal nonsense. The two split after something about why no one makes beer to pair with cheese like they do with wine.

Canada shoved the note in his pocket. _I'll catch up to her later and hand it to her, as though demanding a response on the spot! Well, not _demanding_..._

_Or, I could look for her now and see where her locker is, then put it in there and wait for her to bring it up. And watch as days turn to months as she ignores it. _

_Ok, I'll -_

Absorbed in his ideas, he stopped watching where he was going. And ran right into a corner. Managing to stay on his feet, he opted instead to drop all his books. He sighed. Not his morning. This omen wasn't good.

"You alright?" He turned to the voice. Two girls came over to see what had happened: Belgium and Liechtenstein. God only knew what they were doing together, and at that point, it didn't really matter to Canada anyway. He knew it wasn't a good sign. He silently cursed the corner and knelt to pick up his books. Belgium grabbed a few notebooks and straightened.

"Yeah," he said, standing up to take the pile from her. He looked around the floor. "You didn't see a paper-covered text, did you?" Belgium pointed to the bottom of his stack. "Yeah, but there were two of them."

Belgium shrugged and turned to Liechtenstein. She held it out. Both Belgium and Canada looked at her, mildly surprised.

"How did you get that?"

"It was on the floor." She pointed a foot or so from where Belgium stood. Canada stared at the spot.

"Well, hey. See you later, Canada," Belgium said.

The two girls walked away. A chance. It was right there, Canada thought to himself as the duo walked away. As the chance walked away.

"Wait."

The girls turned around.

_Why did you just say that?_

He held out his hand, as thought to point.

_Because there really isn't anything to be afraid of, is there?_

"Yeah?" Belgium called back.

"Uh..." _Get her attention, idiot, you already have it_. "Er, Liechtenstein, can I talk to you, for a minute?"

The girls exchanged a look. "We have a class," Liechtenstein said.

"Oh...then, after school? Maybe?"

She nodded and the two girls continued on their way.

_Well, _Canada said to himself as he made his way to his own class, _at least _something_ got accomplished today. Maybe I should run into walls more often._

* * *

"Great! So, what are you gonna tell her?"

"Huh? Oh..."

America sighed. "You can't tell me your idea of a date is to meet her after school and talk a minute. The least you could do is walk her home."

"I was going to...think about the plan more later."

"If you weren't ready, man, you shouldn't have said anything! Did you think this through at all?"

"You're one to talk," Canada muttered as America went on.

"Well, maybe you should think hard about what _you_ want to spend a day doing, because it looks like that'll be it."

"Whatever. Just do something for me." America looked at him. "Tell her later where I want to meet up with her."

* * *

Right where he said. He didn't mess it up, did he? Canada looked all around the little area he said to meet. One thing. He just had to say one thing to her, and not mess it up and -

"Oh, you're here already." Canada spun to see Liechtenstein behind him, looking a bit rushed herself (he had also run out there to be on time). "Sorry I'm late, I had to sort some things out. What was it?"

He had thought about this moment all day. He had it planned perfectly. Why was his head so blank come time to perform?

"Ah..." Out of all the times to go by unnoticed. He looked away from her puzzled face.

"Was it important?" she asked. He had no response, so he kept his mouth shut. "Can it wait? I have to get back."

She started to leave. He blew this one, too.

_Enough of this._

He wanted this. He was just as capable as the rest of them. He had no reason to be afraid. At least, not on a small scale.

"Wait up," he called, throwing his bag back over his shoulder and running to catch up with her. She stopped to let him. "I hung you up; least I can do is walk you back." She looked up at him for a second before a small smile made its way across her face.

"How do you know Belgium?" she asked as they were on their way.

"I don't, really. I know her brother, though, so we've met a few times. I was actually a bit surprised myself at how she was earlier."

"She's just friendly. But I wondered if she knew you."

"Yeah well..."

"I actually asked her that, too, and she said the same thing." He looked at her, slightly confused. "That she didn't know you. Wondered...I like to know mutual friends of my own. I haven't branched very far."

"I don't know why you don't have more friends." Was that a complement? Yeah, he thought, it was.

"I don't really need a lot of friends. Gets less personal that way. A network of allies works to an advantage, but never really seems like it's as satisfying."

"Oh."

"I suppose you don't have that many friends?" Was that an insult? Knowing her as little as he did, he wondered if it was an innocent question, or suggesting that he was a loser.

"I have..." he thought for a second, "enough friends. But, still, making new ones is good, too, right?" She nodded. He looked off to the side for a minute, flicking his eyes back every so often to make sure he didn't lose her.

He still couldn't remember the plan. But, he thought as she walked beside him, this works too. He smiled at her, looking down as she turned to him and said, "Did you remember what you wanted?"

The answer was still no. "Well, I was..." he started before going quiet again. What was the problem? She was captive, still waiting to hear from him. And here he stood, not giving her any answer. He'd already messed up her day. Maybe he could make it up?

Short of leaving her to make up time? He already wasted enough of hers.

She didn't look like she was impatiently waiting for him to leave, or was tiring of his company, though. She was attentive and responsive. Though, like America told him earlier, she might just be acting polite.

"It's okay if you can't. We can keep talking, and see if you remember," she offered.

A small elastic ball bounced around inside him. She wanted to keep talking.

_No_, he told himself, _she's just really interested in what you had to say_.

"It's nice out." She nodded in agreement as he willed himself to disappear.

"I take walks like this with my brother all the time. Everything smells nice when the snow melts."

There had to be something wrong with this girl's character _somewhere_, he thought.

They approached their destination. Liechtenstein turned to face Canada and smiled at him. "Thank you for walking me back," she said. He nodded, words escaping him. She stared expectantly back for a few seconds.

_Was she still waiting for it?_

Finally, she looked away and headed to her door.

"Wait."

She looked back. It would be so much easier if she'd stop turning those green eyes back at him.

"Wait. I remembered it."

She blinked, turning her attention fully to him. He sighed. How could she not realize her stare made him nervous? He swallowed.

"I...well, I haven't spent a lot of time out this year, yet...and was thinking about checking out some stuff in town this weekend," he said, feeling himself turn a bright shade of red. She nodded. He removed his glasses under the pretence of clearing a smudge on his shirt.

"And, I was wondering if you knew anything to do."

She shook her head. "I don't really get to town that much either. Never had a reason to."

"Do you want one?"

What.

After an hour agonizing over the right way to say it, _that_ was what he came up with? Something so _simple_?

_Say something else_. No words sprang to mind. He looked at her, trying to reach her eyes. Normally they were so simple to read. Why was it so difficult now?

Finally her brow came together. His heart sank. "You mean, to look around and find something to do?"

"Well, no...it's just that..." he searched his mind frantically for the words. This shouldn't be this difficult. Though, now that he was into it, his problem seemed to be articulating, not getting nerve to do it. "I like...d walking you back here. You're fun to talk to. And you seem really nice, so..."

"Oh." She said it sort of flatly, but her face looked thoughtful. Was she considering it? Or thinking of the best way to turn him down?

"I'm sorry, I'm busy this weekend. I have some plans with others in a club, and..."

"I see." It was hard not to show dejection.

"Maybe another week?" And incredibly simple to throw it off. Canada's ears pricked up at her proposal. Really? She was interested?

"Y-yeah! That...so it's a d-plan?" No, don't use the D word; do as little as possible that could scare her off. He was excited. It showed on his face. He couldn't help it. She smiled back at him.

"Alright."

"Then I'll talk to you later, see if I can find a place to start."

He left her and started on his own way home, a strange bounce in his left foot.

* * *

"What did I tell you, man! How easy was that?" America yelled. He'd made it clear that he was both happy for and exasperated with the whole plan. He fell back into a chair and stared at his brother, awaiting an answer.

"I talked with her for a half-hour before I could say word one about it," Canada explained, still smiling like an idiot.

"So, where are you taking her? What's the plan? Don't take her to an IHOP, bro, I know you like your pancakes, but on a date -"

"Please. As if you could make them right here," Canada said, only partly teasing. "We're basically making it up. I said we could explore the town together."

"Oh, come on! If you needed actual suggestions, I could've given you some!"

* * *

_The duo went on their outing two weeks later, found some stuff and enjoyed each other's company. Subsequent plans were made. He still thinks she's under the impression they're two friends hanging out. She understands the situation better than he thinks she does; she's just waiting until he's ready to say something._

_Loads of rambling here. One of these days, I'll start with an established couple and follow them on a date. Being forever alone, I don't know what those romantically invested do on such outings. Therefore it's all lead-ins until I can figure it out. Maybe I'll rewrite this: like I said, it's supposed to just be an update._


	6. PrussiaXUkraine

_Prompt by Queen Umbugartus. I found a way to make a crack pairing a little less cracky: history. I actually like this, but, damn, it's difficult to start._

_Like I said in the interim temp chapter (in case you missed it, you didn't miss much), the updates will probably be weekly or so. Roughly weekly, we'll say. Also, once again, thanks to my followers on this fic; it means a lot to know people like my work._

* * *

What wouldn't he give to see them again.

His brother...he barely heard anything about him from this captivity.

His childhood frienemy...he wondered if she missed him like he missed her. Not like he missed _her_, just the whole concept of her being around.

Even that aristocratic prick. The familiarity, and the knowledge he could pick on and generally irritate the hell out of him and get away with it.

Not so here.

Here was cold and icy. Here was alone and isolated. Here was dark and at times frightening (or, so he _heard_). Simply put, here was hell on earth.

What had gone wrong?

What had he done...they done...any of them done to force this upon him.

He put another chink in the table. One more week. The table had more notched than he cared to count. He knew it must be over two thousand. Probably more than that.

Ten years he bothered counting the chinks.

Decades ago, he lost count.

* * *

He rolled over on the small bed and scowled at the darkness. The same sight everyday.

_My old walls would've collapsed from the stare by now._

He relaxed his face slightly and almost chuckled to himself. If there was one thing he still had, it was his ego. It was just that he more readily recognized it as ego now.

It was still some part of him. It showed that psychotic bastard that he still wasn't broken.

He had a piece of his sanity.

He didn't know why.

But he had a good idea of what helped.

* * *

_The war had ended. They had lost. The European theatre went to the Allies, and from what Germany had overheard their captors talking about, Japan was going down next._

_They discussed what to do with the captives. They decided that they needed to be put under outside control until they could prove they were capable of playing nicely._

_A bit hypocritical, if you heard the discussions._

_"I just don't think that a nation with such little experience should be meddling in these types of affairs. You can barely control your own country. What makes you think you can handle another one?" One could hear the smile in Russia's voice as he taunted America, whose own ego dictated him believe thoroughly that he was the only man for the job._

_"No way, man!" the younger nation yelled back. "The last thing the Germanites need is your Commie control!"_

_"Which made it possible for me to be one of the last men standing after that situation you caused? Which, I might add, may have caused so much damage it _started_ the war?"_

_The final decision was made weeks later. One part of the nation would go to Russia, the other to the rest of the Allies. _

_"You take the eastern part, so it's communist ways aren't so close to the rest of us. Keep it far away!" America insisted as they came in to split up the pair._

_"Do you have any concept of European geography?"_

_"Then I'll take the east. Which one of you wants to be east?" While neither brother showed it, the smile on Russia's face left them with a shaky, unsettling feeling. Prussia didn't like it. He cast as sideways glance at his younger brother._

_I may as well be useless anyway. Maybe he can be helped._

_"West?" Germany looked at Prussia. Prussia gave one of his smiles to him. He pointed at himself. "East." Germany's eyes widened slightly, but he nodded. _

_"Then let's go," Russia said, holding out his hand to Prussia. Prussia took it. Russia gave one last look to his former allies. "Enjoy your half."_

* * *

Each chink in the table meant a week of Prussia's long life wasted in the Soviet house. He'd never admit it, but whenever he left the small room where he was allowed to stay, he was genuinely scared. All he had left was his attitude, though Russia was trying his damnedest to beat it out of the stubborn German. As a result, no sooner did some bruises heal than did new ones appear.

He never knew where Russia was going to show up. Prussia didn't know a guy so big could be so stealthy. What may have scared him even more was his arguably more psychotic younger sister, Bel...Be...something. It was never important to Prussia what she was called. He just knew that if it scared Russia, it was NOT a nice thing to be around.

Then there were the Baltics. He remembered running into Lithuania a few times in their youth, but never really cared much for him. But he at least had an idea of what was going on in the house. And was the only one, according to some eccentric called Estonia, stupid enough to get in the way when the psychotic younger sister was around. And there was a third one who stood off to the side and didn't do much. Prussia marked him "unimportant". The three of them mostly stuck together (Prussia guessed geography had something to do with it), but sometimes, if including Prussia, it became a party of five.

The fifth being perhaps the sanest of Russia's dysfunctional "family": his older sister Ukraine.

While not exactly a pushover, the woman did tend to be a bit overly emotional. But it usually helped to be on her side, because Russia seemed to want to be nice to her. And, by Prussia's logic, if he was nice to her, he'd be nice to her friends.

"It really doesn't work that way," Estonia explained after Prussia showed off his logic. "That might only work if she's around, and even not then most of the time."

"Really, the best way to stay any kind of sane here is to just do what you're told and nothing more or less," Lithuania added. The little shaky one (Livia?) just nodded, trying to smile.

"So, what do you know about her? Other than the obvious," Prussia asked.

"Obvious?"

"Yeah, you know, that she's..." Prussia wondered for a second the best way to put it. Big on farming? Expansive land?

"...got these nice knockers and doesn't know how to use them."

The trio around him went blue.

"Best not let the boss hear that," Estonia said, either scared or embarrassed by Prussia's blunt statement.

"Are you three seriously that scared of him?"

"Personally? Yes."

"You three need backbones. You're letting that bastard get to you."

The trio got up and left the room. The next day Prussia wound up getting smacked to the gut several times by Russia. The trio swore none of them told.

* * *

It wasn't that she was intimidating. Far from it. He just didn't actually like the idea of getting too close to anyone in that house who was directly connected to Russia. Still, allies were a good idea, and she, as he said several times, seemed the most sane.

He sat by her once. While thinking of something to say to initiate conversation, his mouth worked on its own.

"You work here too?"

She turned. Prussia's eyes settled on her chest. He didn't know any part of a body could still move that long after the rest of it had stopped.

"I suppose you can put it that way," she said, returning to what she had been doing.

"I heard you're," he brought his hand up in a quote, "'the boss's' sister."

She nodded.

"That make a difference?"

"To what?"

"I just wondered if there was some sort of nepotism going on here."

"Not really."

"Oh." Prussia drummed his fingers on the wall behind him. "Does he hit often?"

"Not as much anymore. He's trying to fix you. It's just his way of going about it."

"Girly, I don't need fixing." Prussia smirked. "I'm just fine the way I am."

She looked at him for a moment, something weird in her eyes. She sighed. "I've heard of you. You're stubborn. That might not be your best option here."

"Or what? He'll have himself a little tantrum and start to bully again?" Prussia snickered.

A hand took him around the throat. For a split second his heart stopped as he realized Russia, being everywhere and nowhere at once, probably heard him and he was in for it this time. Except...the hand was too small to possibly be Russia's.

"You think you know everything about this place. About how best to survive here? About everything we've been through as a collective?" The voice, though low, was undeniably female. _Shit_, Prussia thought, _the little one got me._ "We'll be happy to help you out, but you've been trying to get yourself killed here. The hand released him; his hand automatically reached to the spot. He looked at Ukraine, still standing right in front of him. "It's not impossible to survive here," she said, the voice the same, but far less threatening. "But you need to learn. Or," she leaned closer to him, "at least make him _think_ you have. Chances are good you'll be here a while."

She took up her work and relocated. Prussia watched her go. And here he thought she was a weak little woman. Where had he seen this type of thing before? Oh, right... Prussia laughed to himself. These women never ceased to surprise him.

* * *

While the youngest sister (who Prussia was informed was called Bella-ruse, or something to that effect) tended to either stalk Russia or disappear for hours to days on end (which kept everyone a bit on edge), Ukraine usually chose to be in the company of the Baltics and the others. She was much friendlier than either of her siblings, which made Prussia wonder constantly if she was, in fact, their sister.

Everyone he asked assured him she was.

When she smiled, it didn't look like she wanted to rip faces off. When she was around, people carried on; they didn't snap to attention. Prussia wondered it there was a time when they were required to.

She seemed so weak. What was strong was her will. She was the sanity in this mad house. She saw everything that was wrong with this big f*cked-up family, and she still _chose_ to love them.

It reminded him so much of his own.

He wondered if they really had loved him. If they still did.

* * *

Days turned to weeks and months into years, and still Prussia's sentence wasn't up. He took his abuse out on the table in his small room (having long since decided that taking it out on Latvia wasn't worth it and just made the kid throw up, which he had to clean), carving notches in it. Soon he found himself putting notches in notches.

He still hadn't learned. What else could keep him sane? Staying who he was. And what he was was an egotistical wise-guy. He'd then go off by himself with the bruises and attempt to heal. It wasn't as bad now that Russia was busier, going into space and all that. And invariably, he'd be found. Once or twice by Lithuania, more frequently by Latvia. The one time he thought he heard Belarus (he finally learned her name), he vowed never to hide in that spot again. But most of the time, he was found by Ukraine. She found him so frequently he almost made it easy for her. And they had a pattern: she'd find him, he'd get told off, and she'd get him away the most deserted route possible. She was stern, but never yelled. And after it, she never failed to give a smile. Prussia often found himself wondering what was hiding behind it.

He wanted to know.

He wanted to know the secret she was hiding.

He...

...

He found himself wanting to know the girl.

* * *

He only ever ran this idea past one person. He and Lithuania were doing some householdy-stuff (a technical term), the two of them. Lithuania had started for some strange reason talking about Russia, then his fellow Baltics, for some strange reason Poland, and was at that point on a little tangent about the psychotic younger sister. Prussia's head began to hurt: the way the man talked about that insane woman was making his head spin trying to wrap around how anyone could think that about her.

"Yeah, she sounds great," Prussia cut in as Lithuania started to take a breath.

"Yeah, well, it be so much better if she'd even let me pretend I had a chance with her."

"Wouldn't it make more sense to go for someone who isn't out to kill you?"

"Haven't you ever had a relationship where you couldn't stand to be together and couldn't stand to be apart?" The answer was yes, several, but Prussia kept his mouth shut for once. "It's sort of like that. Can't wait to get away from her, can't wait to see her again."

"Would you say that it runs in the family?"

"Well...I suppose you could say it..." Lithuania said, casting his eyes conspicuously back and forth.

"So how did the older one turn out how she is?"

"She's got a strong mind. Whatever must go on in their heads, she might be able to fight, presuming it is genetic and not learned. Or maybe she kept it out to begin with. Ours is not a kind history."

"Are any of ours?" Prussia interjected.

"But something must've gone differently for Ukraine. She definitely seems to be better at handling her mind than her siblings, that's certain."

"Your knuckles are white," Prussia noted, watching Lithuania clutch a desktop more tightly with each word he spoke.

"So," Prussia said, instigating conversation again a minute or so later, as both returned to their chores, "I assume you've approached the little sister before."

No answer.

"How much easier do you think it would be to approach the elder?"

Whatever Lithuania was holding, he dropped. Prussia turned around. The man picked up the broom shakily and turned to look at Prussia.

"I'd be careful. Not of her. Ukraine's very nice to people. But...well, what brother wouldn't be protective of his sister?"

* * *

That day he was internally (and, later, externally) laughing at Lithuania's jitteriness and rapidly-flicking eyes. The next he was thoroughly convinced that Russia was, in fact, everywhere.

Every time he saw Ukraine that day, Russia wasn't more than two meters away from her. Though eventually Prussia realized that it wasn't Ukraine he was following, but _Prussia_. Presumably making sure his least favorite prisoner wasn't getting to close to his beloved older sister. Which, to an extent, Prussia understood. It was just the way he was going about it. Stalking would be an appropriate word here.

He finally decided to give it to him. It wasn't like Prussia hadn't been beaten before. Then he could crawl off like a wounded animal and wait for her to find him, for him to have his little piece of sanity.

What he didn't expect was to wake up in a locked closet. He didn't know what Russia's plan for him initially was, but from the look on his face the next morning, he considered Prussia extremely lucky Latvia forgot to put away his mop, accidentally stumbling upon Prussia and nearly passing out from fright.

"It's nice to see Russia spending some time with us peons," Prussia said while working next to Latvia, after agonizing for the last two hours about how best to bring it up so that he didn't get shoved back in the closet (though now that Latvia knew the hiding spot, maybe he would be willing to help Prussia out).

Instead of offering any kind of help to the conversation, Latvia simply nodded. Kid was smarter than he looked.

Best part of the whole thing was that everytime Prussia looked over his shoulder at Russia, he could bet on Belarus being closer to him than he was to Prussia. Finally he left, leaving Lithuania "in charge". The woman still followed him out. As the door slammed shut, the four men gave a collective sigh of relief.

"That's really strange," Estonia said. "Usually he has a lot of better things to do than watch us work."

Prussia caught Lithuania looking at him sternly, clearly trying to make eye contact. When that failed, he approached Prussia, got into his face and said, "I think he heard you."

"Yeah. And I told him for it, too." Lithuania's face blanched. "Bastard locked me in a closet, after beating me soundly while tied, sadistic coward. I have the little shaky guy to...thank...for me standing with you right now."

"Oh, with the mop? Yeah...Belarus found it out and chewed him up good for forgetting about it."

"I've had enough of this!" Prussia threw it down. "I've been here for decades with no good reason! When I finally go back to my house, it's chaos! And not the good kind. He's killing me! Killing us!" The four in the room watched him climb up on a table to finish the speech. "He thinks he knows what's best. Can this idiot open his eyes? What I wouldn't give for a few good allies, because, honestly, you all suck. Then we'd show him! Maybe if the invasion had gone better, I could be the one whipping his sorry ass!" Estonia and Ukraine returned to their job, while Lithuania watched Prussia and Latvia curled up in a ball. "I won't have him telling me what to do here!"

"Prussia, it's his house," Estonia informed him.

"It's _our_ house. He shares it." Prussia jumped down.

"No, I'm pretty sure it's his house." Estonia's voice cracked.

"Yeah, well, the only reason he left is because of that psycho of a little sister. Shut up," Prussia said, holding his hand up to Lithuania, who hadn't moved since Prussia jumped. "And the only reason he's here today is to watch her."

Ukraine looked from Prussia, pointing at her while not looking at her, to the door. "If he thinks you're dangerous, I can take care of you myself."

"Nah, that's not his problem. He..." Prussia trailed. He looked at Lithuania, who shrugged and went to stand by the door. "He overheard that one and me talking about you the other day. That's my best guess."

"What about me?"

"Nothing much, just about how you're saner than everyone else here and that you seemed easy to approach. Personally." Ukraine stared at Prussia, evidently not following. "Like...now, it's because I want to. Not because I need somebody. But -"

"Wait. What?"

"Is he close?" Prussia asked Lithuania, who peeked out the keyhole and shook his head. "Good. Well..." he took Ukraine aside and brought her closer to him. "Everyone in this house is nuts. Those three included. Some might argue I'm included, but hey, they're just jealous, right? But there's definitely something different about you. I like it."

"Oh."

"Now, I won't force it on you, mostly because he's taken up bruising my bruises -"

"It wouldn't be good. Not because...not because I can't see it happening, but because...well, you seem to have figured it out..."

"I don't plan on going anywhere. Well, I mean, yeah, I'm leaving here eventually, but it's not like I'm getting any older. He can try, but he can't keep us forever." Prussia smirked. "And then, who knows. Maybe I'll come find you and give this another shot."

He wanted her. He knew exactly why she turned him down, but he couldn't pretend he didn't take it personally. Within ten seconds of the conversation wrapping up, Russia came back, took Latvia with him and left again immediately. He did not look pleased (Russia, though Latvia wasn't thrilled either). The remaining four exchanged looks for a minute. Prussia met Ukraine's eyes and he got it: now was not the best time.

* * *

What wouldn't he give.

He gave a lot in forty-five years. His wandering ways. His relationship with everyone he knew. For him, the iron curtain never came down.

He dragged a mallet with him to the concrete wall and smashed with his countrymen. He was ready to tear down, get out and never look back. There was so much there he hated. He would've given it all for his freedom from Russia. His occupancy of Prussia was over.

He had so much to do, he thought as he stepped over a pile of rubble. He watched a young man pull an older man to the west side of the gate, give him an excited hug and then ask what his name was. It didn't matter to them who they were, except they were all German. Not Eastern or Western, but German.

The only one it mattered to was Prussia - rather, East. He walked away from the wall and didn't look back. Let them have fun with their destruction. There was an important westerner for him to find.

He could see them all again. His brother, Hungary, he might even pay that aristocratic prick a visit, he thought with a smile.

_Then I'll see how they're all doing...on their own._

And he knew the first stop on his list.

* * *

She was doing well, or so she told him. He knew it was difficult on all of them, but he couldn't imagine anyone being lost and unhappy about finally being free. Well, freer than they were.

Her house was small. Somehow he expected it to be bigger. He didn't know why. Maybe he was just used to being in a larger space with her. Not that he minded. He preferred being closer to her.

Not much was said. They talked about how things were going. He tried to steer her as far out of her job's affairs as possible, and find out how she herself was. Of course, with her job not going well, she couldn't be expected to be great, either. He was fascinated by her. The face she was putting on even though everything...she was much stronger than anyone who didn't know her would give her credit for.

"Are you okay?"

Prussia blinked. Ukraine was looking at him with some sort of concern. He grinned.

"Of course! You think there would be something wrong with the awesome me?"

"You're just sort of staring."

"Oh, well, I suppose I'm distracted, that's all."

"By?" She looked behind her.

"Just...all these rememberings. Do you remember I asked you out all those whiles ago?"

"Not how I remember it. How I remember it was you signalled interest and I told you it was a bad time."

"Either way, I remember you didn't say no."

"Well, what do you have in mind?" She said, looking down, smiling shyly. It was like she hadn't heard a nice thing in so long, she wasn't sure how to react. He smiled back.

_It's about damn time_. She seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

* * *

_I might have to apologize for this one. I'm not trying to trivialize history. It was just the only way I could think of that these two characters could plausably meet._

_Also, for the fact it took so long to write._

_And for the weak ending. And an appalling lack of ship._

_Thanks for your patience._


	7. JapanXfem America

_Prompt by Guest (guest). The second one; the one who played by the rules, always assuming they aren't the same person. (hey, anons, there's a new rule up in chapter 2 concerning your names!) Yes, the name's been changed; it sort of gets explained at the end._

_W__ell, it's Valentine's Day, if you're into that sort of thing. What better way to spend it than reading about fictional characters' love lives while sitting at home instead of going out with a significant other? Or, you know, at all? (of course, what does that say about me writing it?)_

_Anyway, there are important author notes at the end. Make sure you read them, even if you just skip the story completely and read the notes._

* * *

"Damn!" America said, pulling her jacket over her head to shield herself from the sudden downpour. Japan just frowned at her.

"I did warn you we're prone to rain this time of year," he calmly said, raising the hand carrying his umbrella.

"Yeah, yeah," she said, rolling her eyes. She watched him open it, then looked away as he caught her.

"Did you want to share it?"

"No." Japan sighed at her and held it over her head. She looked up at it, slowly removing her jacket from her head.

"I didn't mean that either," she muttered. She looked up at him. "If I'm under here, you may as well be, too." He blushed lightly. She tugged him under the umbrella and held his arm at her side. "There," she said, automatically brightening, "Now it's working for both of us."

As they walked on in the rain, America started to become annoyed at the sight of people staring at them. A few gave the pair disapproving looks; a few schoolkids giggled at them as they ran home. Finally she yelled at Japan, "What is everybody's problem today?" He wasn't looking at her. "Hey!" she said louder, assuming he wasn't paying attention.

"What is it?" he finally answered.

"What's everyone's problem?"

"What do you mean?"

"People." He looked at her, confused. "They're all looking at us weird. It's weird," she finished.

"Oh. Well," Japan said, starting to become flustered. "Perhaps I should explain." He took her off to a side and held the object over her, stepping out from under it himself.

"I thought we were sharing," she said, somewhat annoyed.

"Here we have a sort of connection between umbrellas and...those who share them."

"And?"

"Did you happen to notice we were standing closer than we normally do?" She nodded. "Japanese people tend to not get close like that."

"How do they make more Japanese, then?"

"In public!" he clarified, becoming irritated by her blunt remark. "Under an umbrella, a couple has to stand close to each other so neither of then becomes wet. In that way, there's a connection in our culture of umbrellas and...well, romance."

America stared blankly at him for a few seconds. Then, as if nothing had just happened, she let out a bark of laughter. "Is _that_ it? They just think we're getting cozy under here? Whatever." She dragged him back under the umbrella. "In my country, if two people share an umbrella, it means neither are in the mood to get soaked," she said, dragging Japan along with her.

"If they think this is romantic, they haven't seen any. And here I thought we were doing something wrong by sharing! Although, you were the one who suggested it," she said, giving a smirk at her companion. He blinked once at her, his brow beginning to knit.

"I didn't realize you had a problem with it."

"You didn't say you did, either!"

"If you wouldn't have taken my arm, perhaps those who pass wouldn't stare as much."

"Couldn't have you running away on me, could I?" America said loudly, smiling broadly at Japan.

The two kept going in silence. America kept staring intensely at anyone who glanced at the pair for more than a second. Japan told her off for it once, which did nothing to stop her except she's only do it when he wasn't watching her.

"Hey, you wanna know something romantic and rain-related at my place?" America finally asked out of nowhere.

"What is that?" Japan said, instead of "Not really".

"A lot of girls like to be kissed in the rain. Though seeing the attitude here of simply being _seen_ together, they probably wouldn't like that, would they?"

"It's highly unlikely."

"Well then," America said, taking the umbrella from Japan and turning toward him, putting her face right in his, "why don't we give them something to look at?"

He pushed her down by the forehead, looking terrified. "That is not something I'll allow!" he said firmly. "It's not an acceptable practice!"

America pouted, but the look on Japan's face made her realize his decision was final. She handed back the umbrella and they kept going, her arms wrapped around his. She half-expected him to throw her off, or at least make her release his arms. When he didn't, she kept pushing it, seeing how close and how tightly she could hold on to him.

Eventually she found the limit, albeit not in the way she expected: "America-chan, why are you squeezing the blood from my arm?"

They came back to his house, finally putting away the umbrella. She looked at the thing resentfully, as if it, and not the pouring rain, had ruined her entire day.

The rest of the afternoon went rather normally for the pair. He cooked, she tried to assist but wound up just getting the cleaning job at the end like usual. Then the plans were lax for the evening. So it was a bit of a surprise when Japan asked America to accompany him outside. Noticing he left his umbrella, she picked it up and followed him out.

"Here," she said, handing it to him. He put her hand down. She looked at him, puzzled. It was still raining. He brushed her hair behind her ear. He looked around at the neighbors once before looking back down at her. "You said something about girls you know liking to be in the rain with their lover."

"Well, yeah, _some_ girls," America said, halting any attempts to make eye contact. The pair turned pink and shyly looked back up at each other. Japan leaned toward her forehead and she pulled his head down to meet her face, the pair of them opening the umbrella to shield their moment from the world.

* * *

_The new plan of attack on these stories is I get to them in the order I get to them. Damn._

_So, apparently, this story violates some sort of site rule? I don't understand what's so wrong with asking for suggestions. It's not like I'm asking you to write an entire story. A nice user calmly warned me that this story could be taken down at any moment the admin decides. I'm thinking about setting up a fanfiction Tumblr and posting these stories there. Some time this week I'll see if I can set up the blog. The first chapters will go up as well._

_No disrespect to the user who informed me, but I'm not going anywhere for the time being. I took on this challenge and people are expecting the prompts to be done. I just want to have a back-up somewhere. I'm still taking suggestions, and will be posting here and there, but eventually, I want there to be a point that I'm doing it just on Tumblr. Next update I should have a URL or site name for you, if you want to follow there instead._


	8. AmericaXIreland

_Prompt by Guest (guest) (the same one who submitted the Ameripan last chapter). There is no excuse for 2 weeks with no update. Ok, there sort of is, and I call it "college", so..._

_Here's another OC. I've been developing her, so it shouldn't be _that_ poor of a character. I hope... Anyway, I sort of like this one, but I can imagine there being a bit of a snag... plus, last time I checked, Ireland was a neutral country (though she goes about it in a really strange way)._

* * *

She was beautiful. She was proud. She was strong. Every time he talked to her, his huge grin felt a little wider. If he had his full way with the situation, he would've asked her out by now, as many times as it took for her to say "yes". There was just one little problem standing, blocking the entire path...

* * *

America knocked excitedly on the front door of England's place. He'd finally gotten a free weekend and decided to visit him. Plus, he'd found out over Facebook, his family was supposed to be over today, too. He was greeted by the somewhat shorter blond, who didn't quite look as pleased to see America as America was to see him.

"I thought I told you not to come," England said irritably, stepping aside to let America in anyway.

"What? And waste the ticket? Non-transferrable and no refunds, bro, I was coming here whether you liked it or not!"

"Yes, so, why don't you go and -"

"I thought you said you were having the fam over? I hope you didn't cancel on my account!" This was a total truth, but not quite for the reason (he hoped) England thought.

"Don't think so highly of yourself! Of course I wouldn't cancel because of you coming over when I _told you not to_! They haven't arrived yet, that's all."

The two stood in silence a few seconds. America wondered how much the question in his head would irritate England. Only one way to find out.

"Now, it's just your bros coming over today, right?"

"I expect them all to be here," England replied stiffly, trying his best to make it sound like he wasn't bothered by the question.

"Even the half-pint?"

"He'd come if I _didn't_ invite him. Like you."

"Sweet! I'm coming?" A thick eyebrow twitched.

"And I invited my sister as well, though it's been hit or miss with her, but she has been coming more frequently on invitation."

Which was just what America wanted to hear. "Great."

"Great what?" The same eyebrow rose.

"Oh, nothing. Just sounds like a party!"

"It's not a 'party'. It's a gathering."

America stopped paying attention. He made his way into England's granny sitting room and threw himself in an old couch. He whipped out his phone, wondering who he should text. The first one in mind was Japan, followed by Canada. He decided on Japan. The man was useless with advice, but was generally too polite to refuse conversation. (And he didn't feel like telling Canada, who was far too close to "the situation").

_Hey, bro, I'm here._

"You know, I'm standing right here, if you want to talk to someone," England said from the doorway, his voice saturated with annoyance.

America waved the phone at him. "Just a friend back home, bro," he lied. "He wanted me to tell him when I got here and I forgot. Plus, time zones screw with me, so I don't know if he's asleep or not." Just then, the phone let out a tone. England rolled his eyes as America opened the message.

_Have you done it?_

_Not yet, bro: she aint here. Besides, still haven't decided if I should._

_Why not?_ was the reply.

_Do you remember what I told you last time we all met about it? _

_Oh, right that code._

_Exactly_, America thought to himself. The only thing keeping him from Ireland. The Bro Code. As in, the thing that basically states, _sisters are off limits_.

His thoughts were cut off by yelling at the front door. A red-haired boy came in and threw himself into an oversized arm chair across the room, not even paying attention to the row in the room over.

"Hey, North," America said, smiling at him. The kid looked up at him and nodded, slouched in the chair. America paid him no further mind. His ears were fixed on the argument. One voice was England's; the other was a woman's. His plan was coming together.

"How do you manage to f*ck up the day as soon as we get here!" yelled the woman, as she walked into the sitting room, followed closely by England, who was clearly not through with his point.

"How can you - now look at this!" England said, gesturing at Northern Ireland in the chair. "He's gone and tracked it in here!" The boy looked up slightly, then right back down at his sleeve.

"Contrary to popular belief, _Sasana_," she said, driving her argument with the sharpness of her own tongue, "dirt won't kill you." She flicked her eyes on the third man in the room. She threw a "hi" America's way and immediately put her hard stare back on her younger brother.

"That just proves you're completely missing the point that the boy lacks respect! And then you want him to live with you full-time!" England shouted at her.

"Are you fighting without me already?" called another voice from the front door. England went off to go yell at the new arrival. Ireland rolled her eyes and sat on the other side of the old couch.

"So, no one told me you were coming," she said, forcing herself to sound cheerful. He smiled at her, ignoring his phone vibrating.

"I thought I'd surprise you," he said, scooting closer to her under the pretense of hearing her over the loud voices in the other room, though they were dying down.

She cocked an eyebrow. "I'm sure England was thrilled to see you," she said, joking.

"Yeah, he was." He kept trying to get closer to her. He wondered why he wasn't reaching her.

"What are you doing to my sister?" Both sets of eyes turned to North. He was watching the pair through narrowed eyes. America backed up. He noticed Ireland straighten. It finally dawned on him: she was backing _away_. He looked to his phone as Wales announced his arrival and Scotland declared that it was time to leave for the country. They liked their family gatherings there because it was quiet and less people were around to witness when everything went sour.

_Are you still there? the message read._

_Yeah, man, I'm here. I tried to make a move, but the youngest one caught us. This will be harder than I thought._

* * *

America wondered often if the initial formality of the siblings was trying to reduce tension while really creating it. He noticed a cycle whenever he saw two or more of them gathered. They started formal, then relaxed, until one of their customs upset on of the others. Then there was fighting, then another stretch of forced formality before they parted ways. It varied very little.

He kept watching Ireland out of the corner of his eye. She seemed highly amused at England's and Scotland's formality beginning to fall through. She gave a look to Wales and he shrugged at her. As it escalated off to the side, Ireland got up. She walked off, both Wales and America watching her. America got to his feet and went after her.

"Hey!" he called, catching up to her. She turned around and half-smiled at him. "Where you going?"

"Elsewhere. Not far: don't get excited."

"So you noticed." She turned to him, slightly confused.

"Aren't you supposed to be back there prodding the spat?"

"Nah. Those two are good enough at it themselves. Actually, I came here to talk to you!"

She blinked at him. "And this particular day was special because...?"

He looked at her. "You're here."

"I was at my house yesterday. You can talk to me there, if you like."

"Nah, it would get suspicious."

"Suspicious? How on earth would it get 'suspicious'?" she asked, knitting her brow, bafflement in her voice.

"Well, I don't want them back there," he jabbed his thumb toward the group behind him, "to get the 'wrong idea' about me visiting their sister."

"Like what?"

"Well..." America said, weighing how much he liked Ireland against how it pained him to admit this about his relationship with her brothers, especially England. "It's...well, I already don't have many friends, and that little group back there... I've known them forever. They're..." he struggled with it. Figuring he already had most of it out, he went on, "they're...like...it's like I'm one of their brothers. At least, that's how I think they see it. It's lame, but unfortunately, it's true." He waited for her to laugh at it.

Her face, spelling out bewilderment a second before, turned to a weird laugh-smile, her brow remaining together, though far less severe. "I still don't get it! If they're brothers to you, then aren't I your sister?"

Some little cog in America's logic fell off. Had he just been friend-zoned?

"We go way back, too, you and I."

"I don't recall." America had no idea where she was getting her logic.

"Well, I suppose I didn't see you all that often when you were small, so perhaps not. But a few times. I figured if it was enough to lump Scotland in, you could lump me in, too."

"No...I never dealt with you. Not until way recent."

"Well, like I said, I didn't get to see you much. We had some fun when we did, but I suppose not much worth remembering." She started walking again. He kept following. She turned her head so he was just in her line of vision, then turned her head back and asked, "So, what was so important that you had to come see me today?"

"This."

"I don't follow."

"I was hoping you and I could spend some time together."

She looked at him. Her eyes lit up. "Like when you were younger? Making up for lost time, are we?"

He blinked at her excited expression. "No." It fell. "I don't know how long you've thought this, Ireland, but I'm not a child anymore."

"I know."

"So I was thinking we could hang out as adults."

She continued to stare. "Do you know how long I've been an adult and I still climb trees."

He looked at her. She was smiling as she brushed a chunk of her red hair out of her face. His stomach clenched. Only that one thing was keeping him from taking her then and there. Well, two things: he was sure taking her there would wreck his chances with her. But above that, he had worked on the relationship with her brothers for almost a century now. He couldn't let one thing ruin it. Not even her willingness could quite make him think it was okay. But, damn, did he think she was beautiful.

"Hey," he called to her. While he was thinking, she had made her way to a tree.

"Deciding to join me?" she said, beaming at him, her eyes closed from her smile.

"Got a question. What do you see when you look at me?"

She halted her scoping of the tree surface to look him over. She shrugged. "I see you. Tall, blond, specs, this," she reached up and flattened down the little chunk of hair sticking up, "stupid little thing," it sprung back up as soon as she let go.

"Not quite what I meant. I mean, like when I see you, I think of a strong, brave woman, who not only used her mind but has a great body to put it in. And a nice face with an orange frame." Her brow came together again, contrasting her reddening face. America stood back. Had she not appreciated the compliment? Oh, right, she was still under the impression he saw her like a big sister. He honestly had expected that as a response from her.

Ireland folded her arms in front of her. Was she angry? "Was there something you wanted to tell me, America?"

He was _not _good at reading women. Her arms told him she was angry; her face said otherwise. And was her question an invitation or a dare? Well, only one way to find out.

"You need to realize I'm not a kid. I...I've grown."

"Yes."

"And I don't see any of you as real family."

"I can underst-"

"And," he said cutting her off, "I never saw you as a sister and I do, at this moment, see you as a woman. Alright?" he said, forcing himself not to mumble with difficulty.

She blinked. Her lips were together and her expression blank. As if he wasn't having a hard enough time reading her.

"The only reason I haven't told you sooner is because you're the sister of a really good friend of mine. I figured that made you, you know, unavailable to me. Maybe I should stop seeing you as his sister and -"

"Wait." Ireland held up her hand. A blush caught up with America's face. She hadn't liked what she heard, had she? She looked like she was thinking about it.

After a while, she said, not changing her pose, "So what you're saying is...you're..._interested_ in m-me?" The inflection she gave "interested" made America realize she understood at least partially.

"Are you?" he asked eagerly, perking back up. She shrugged.

"It's weird. You're so young." The words crashed over him like a ton of bricks, weighing down the heart that had just gotten its hopes up.

"I just said I'm not a kid!"

"I know, you're n-"

"You're not going to give me a chance because you knew me as a kid?"

"Now, look at that through my eyes at over one thousand years old!"

"Yeah, you're an old lady, so what. I can't see that when I'm around you! I...I can't. I can't see an old woman, or a big sister. I just see," he said taking her hands.

"What are you doing?" she said, a hint of panic in her voice.

"A strong," he stepped closer to her, "amazing" he put one hand around her waist drawing her closer when he was met with no resistance, "beautiful nation, all wrapped up in a woman I've come to really like." By this point there was almost no distance between their faces.

"This isn't right." She maintained her stance on the subject.

"Then get me off. I'm barely touching you. Go on." He waited for her to push him off and walk back to the family gathering. "I've been wanting you this close to me for years, but I don't want it if you don't." He started to get to his knees, just barely pulling her down with him. "If you don't want it, stop following me," he said, releasing his hand from her back. She continued to get to her knees.

"Alright then."

"We need a hill."

The mood he had just created shattered before his eyes. Pulling his face from hers, he said in bewilderment, "What for?"

"I just thought that we could roll," she pushed him backward and fell to her stomach, rolling herself away.

"You're more of a kid than I am!" he called after her. "No fair, you got a head start!" He started rolling after her, trying to catch up.

Not really a hill, but a small incline met the two barrels as they made their across the field. She came to a stop; he continued rolling, actually rolling over part of her before stopping a rough metre away.

"You okay?" he said, looking at her with concern. She had a hand over where his head met her midsection.

"It takes more than that to harm me, you should know by now."

He smiled at her fuzzy outline (he'd lost his glasses somewhere along the way down), then scooted to her level and rolled back over to her side.

"I used to do this all the time with those little bastards up there," she said affectionately despite her word choice. "I think one of the few times he let me alone with you, we did this, too."

Great, America thought, just another reason for her to see me as a kid. Should've figured. He felt around for her hand. He sighed audibly, trying to make her realize he didn't appreciate it. He shifted to his front and propped himself up on his hands and knees, wondering if he should try to get on her. He would've loved to have "accidentally" rolled over on her down the incline, but it didn't work, and only resulted in him knocking her wind out. She looked at him as he moved, just tilting her head, causing enough motion to catch his attention. He met her eyes for a split second and let himself fall to the ground again.

"No..."

"No what?"

"You're right! This isn't right, but not for the reason you think!"

"I don't get it."

Damn it, why were all their eyes the same? Why did he have to think of _them_ when he looked at her? Everything was going so well! He actually forgotten about the problem in his path, was ready to step over it, ignoring it completely. Why did those damn green eyes of hers have to ruin it?

"You think I'm a kid, and now every time I'll see your eyes, I'll be thinking of your damn brothers!"

She said nothing about it, but watched silently as America got to his feet. He held out his hand to help Ireland to hers and she took it. She found her balance, not releasing his hand, and shut her eyes.

"What are you doing?" America asked, slightly confused.

"Now you can stop thinking about them. Talk to me as me. God knows I worked hard and lost a lot to be thought of separately from my brothers."

"I know the feeling."

"Now, what was it you wanted to say?"

"You know, where I come from, we're more people of _action_, rather than words." He smiled, one she'd never see. He leaned in to her face, pulling her closer to him. As he closed his eyes too, he made his lips meet hers gently, tentatively. He waited for her to push him away. She twitched once and pulled her hand out of his to move to his shoulder. She too was gentle as she pushed him away from her. His eyes opened and immediately met hers. He looked to the side and said, "Have you seen my glasses anywhere?"

He got to his feet and started feeling around for them. "Don't change the subject," Ireland said above him. He refused to give his full attention back to her; she sounded somewhat angry. She sighed and started talking. "I don't want you to think that I'm still treating you as a child, or that you're not good at...whatever you just did, but..."

"You didn't like it," America said from the ground. Two hands dragged him upright and started leading him back.

"They're up here somewhere. Just because I thought of you as a little brother all that time ago, doesn't mean I see you as a child. Hell, I never saw enough of you that I _should_ see you as a little brother. It's just that you were so small, I thought maybe you'd thought that about me. I suppose that isn't the case." Ireland stooped, pulling America down and back up with her. "Here." She thrust his glasses into his hand. He put them on.

"I don't think we ever got to that point. I thought that was _your_ problem this whole time."

"Well, it still doesn't fix that I'm so much older than you. That might have something to do with it. To me, you really are still a child. Maybe not a brother, but a child."

"Plus I'm close to your brothers."

"No, actually, that's only bothering you."

"Oh. So, why did you just push me off?"

Ireland shrugged. "It still didn't feel right."

"I wasn't giving it my all back there."

"I should hope not, that was very weak. But...I'd just gotten through telling you that -"

"Yeah, I know, I'm a kid to you." He approached her. "You didn't want it."

"I don't know. Could I see us in a 'personal' relationship? Perhaps. But not right now. If someone finds out, it might get messy for both of us. We can't go around acting on every impulse we have, you know. Besides, I'm supposed to be neutral. I don't need alliances like this."

"It doesn't have to be that way!"

"America, it does. It can't happen right now." Ireland held up her hand and started walking away.

"Is this a mixed signal?" America called after her.

"No, it's a 'not right now'."

"So...maybe?"

She stopped. Her shoulders heaved as she took a deep breath. She turned back around, her hands folded and a strange half-smile on her face. "It means you can keep trying, but it wouldn't look good for either of us to act upon it at the moment."

"But if we dropped everything you're talking about, it could be a yes?"

She looked to the side. "Well, I couldn't say I wouldn't give you a chance..."

"Great. We're alone now. This stuff doesn't apply." He caught up to her.

"Were you listening at all to me?"

"I heard you."

"That doesn't mean you were listening."

He held up a finger. "It's okay, you know? We're alone. No one can see us. Let yourself do what your feelings tell you."

"These are important reasons against to forget, you know."

"Either tell me you're interested or you're not." His face was right in hers again. He tried hard to force out the image of all the pairs of eyes just like hers.

"Promise you'll do it right this time." He blinked at her. Her mouth curled upward slightly. He approached her awkwardly. "Oh, for -" she said in exasperation. "After all that lead up, you're going into it wrong." He stopped in his tracks as she reached for his shoulders. "I'll show you how it's done." She pulled him in.

_And to think a minute ago, she thought it was wrong..._

She released him and they slowly broke apart. He looked at her eyes, finally seeing them as hers. Her direction was immediately directed to her left. America followed to his right, where not far from the pair stood a rather shocked-looking Wales. The onlooker backed up, saying something about "wondered where you'd gotten to," and walked away rather straight-backed.

"Well, so much for that 'alone' excuse." America reached for her hand. "Maybe we should go explain..."

Ireland took it heartily. "Maybe you should let me do the talking."

* * *

_What happened then? _read the text America received later.

_Funny thing was, Wales had no intention of repeating what he just saw to anyone..._

_That doesn't sound good._

_No, it wasn't. I think I started this year's family feud. But it was worth it. Except she still won't go out with me._

_Why not?_

_Something about image. Anyway, we're boarding. Text you when I get home._

He slid his phone shut and slid it back open, just for something to do. Then the phone buzzed.

_Damn it, Japan, I told you I'd get back to you, _he thought as he opened the message, which turned out not to be from Japan, but from Ireland.

_You should come to my house sometime. I'd like to do that again. I can easily find things for us to do._

A smile appeared on the man's face. He sent her back: _looking forward to it :D ._ He stared at it a moment, contemplating adding the final piece of the message he wanted. He decided against it; he figured it was too early to start telling her he loved her. He sent it and turned back in line, thinking about the next time he'd have a chance to visit her.

* * *

_So, I set up the Tumblr! :D The first 3 or 4 chapters are already up, and they'll start being updated again once I get some followers. (The ItaSey story got a reblog, but that doesn't count). If anyone's interested, you can find me at "theaphcrackpairingchallenge" at Tumblr. Submissions should be open, if you'd rather request there than here._

_I know I said I'd write "any" orientation, and I do have some BL stories in the queue. I just haven't had the time to work on them. I'm not good at much besides het, because I've only recently become more accepting of those "nontraditional" types of relationships. And I want to do them right. Plus, they're with characters I'm not sure how to make meet. So, they will be written. Eventually. I promised I'll get to all of them, and damn it, I will._


	9. About Updates & Submissions: 24 March

_Hey, all..._

_Yes, I know I've been neglecting this series. If you notice the author notes, I am (supposedly) a student first and an author second. Plus I've been distracted in other ways. The end of our semester is approaching and I have all kinds of projects. _

_I'm not saying that I'm ending the story for lack of time. Updates may happen, but consider it a hiatus for now until maybe mid-May. I'm on break, so there might be an update, but I'm techincally supposed to be working on 6 projects, so don't count on it._

_Also, with all these roadblocks, I'm behind on 13 prompts. So, I'm temporarily closing submissions. I don't know when I'll re open them. If you have an idea, write it down. Any I get before I open the box again will be ignored unless resubmitted later._

_I'm sorry for the lack of updates. Hope you're well and I'll see you in the future._

_~ asymmetricalpasta_


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